The Rising of a Lion
by uber grasshopper
Summary: Minerva has raised her boy well, but now he is beoming a man. Tensions rise between mother and son as Harry learns long kept secrets about his past and struggles to come to terms with his parent's sacrifice and its consequences. discontinued
1. Breaking at Dawn

**Disclaimer: applies to entire story: **Harry Potter and all the bells and whistles that go along with it belong to JKR and WB. I only claim the plot to the prequel to this (A Tabby and Her Kit) but almost the entire plot to this one belongs to JKR too.

AN: heyhey all! Be happy and rejoice!!! I have bullied _ITALICS _and**BOLD **into submission!!! =) anyway. This is the sequel to A Tabby and Her Kit, but it's not completely necessary that you read it first, because I'm giving you the story in a nutshell right here: Minerva McGonagall takes Harry from the Dursleys and brings him to live with her as her son. ta-dah! But if you'd like some more background, please go read A Tabby and Her Kit - I've heard it's pretty good. =9 AND it's completely reformatted (there are ACTUAL _italics_ in it now =9)

So we're jumping right into the good stuff in PoA, mostly because I just don't feel like having _certain people_ bug me to "FREE SIRIUS" for the first six chapters ::giggle:: just kidding. =) We'll be flashing back to books 1 and 2 in intervals (mostly because I really like the short sequences I wrote =9) and continuing up to graduation I think. And that's about it. So enjoy!!!

**_The Rising of a Lion_**

**Breaking at Dawn**

.

            A loud, tone-deaf rendition of "Happy Birthday" jolted Harry Potter into wakefulness. Squinting painfully towards the window, he groaned seeing the faint lightening of the dark night sky on the horizon heralding the early beginnings of dawn. As the door to his room burst open, he buried his head in his pillow and refused to look up.

            "You have got to be kidding," he mumbled as his aunt bounced to the side of his bed and ended her serenade with a wince-worthy flourish to an otherwise harmless song.

            "… Happy Birthday to yooooooooouuuu!" she finally finished.

            A few moments of silence passed and the young man remained motionless on the bed. With a gleam in her eye to rival the devil himself, Amanda Hooch took a deep breath and,

            "How old are you now? How old are you n-"

            "Alright!" the small teenager yelled, hurling his pillow at the offensive creature. "I'm awake – I'm up – I'm thirteen – and I'm just _filled_ with joy about it!"

            Grinning at him innocently, she pinched his nose, "That's the spirit, laddie."

            She pretended not to hear him as he grumbled about lunatics and fixing the floo connection and made her way across the hall to his mother's room. A loud yelp of surprised escaped her as she reached for the doorknob and she snatched her hand back as if burned.

            "She figured you'd be along," he commented dryly, emerging from his room with a slightly more awake demeanor. "Wait here, I'll only be a minute."

            Softly opening the cream-colored door, he slipped inside and closed it behind him. 'Sprawled' would not be a term normally associated with Minerva McGonagall, but sprawled she was, across the bed with her stomach pinned down beneath the head of a black and white spaniel. The dog cracked one eye open and perked up her ears as the boy entered, and tiredly wagged her tail in recognition. Grinning, Harry edged over to the side of the bed and scratched Switch behind her left ear. He'd swear the dog was half cat the way she purred in contentment.

            "Mum?" he questioned softly, trying to be as considerate as possible.

            "Came early did she?" was the sleep-slurred response.

            With a wry grin he nodded, "Yeah, so we'll be back later. Are we still having supper at the Burrow?"

            "Yes. Don't be too late," she ordered, the stern command undermined by the sleepy yawn that followed.

            "Yes, Mum," he agreed with a grin. Placing a dutiful peck on her cheek, he left the room, only just remembering his aunt on the other side of the door as he ducked the sneaky hex she flung at him. "Leave off, mad one," he taunted, and raced down the stairs before she could properly retort.

            A few minutes later they were properly gone – off to a Cannons match with Ron Weasley and recently retired Marcus Kettleburn. Minerva sighed into the silence, relishing in the peace of _very_ early morning. She was just drifting back to sleep when her dogs set up a racket downstairs and a masculine voice called, "Minerva, I need to speak with you."

            Chuckling as she heard Albus fend off and protest the welcoming slobbers from her dogs, she quickly pulled her hair into a messy ball at the nape of her neck and threw a light robe over her nightgown.

            "Yes, what is it?" she asked as she stepped off the bottom step.

            Taking in her rumpled appearance, he grinned for the first time that morning. "Well for starters, good morning," he said, pulling her into a tender hug. "But I'm afraid I bring some very disturbing news."

            "Disturbing?" she questioned, pulling away to fix him with her trademark stern gaze.

            Wordlessly, he placed a short memo in her hands. The letterhead of the Ministry of Magic caught her attention immediately. "Albus, what-?"

            "Read it," he told her seriously, no hint of his twinkle in his eye.

            Frowning at his impertinence, she fished for her glasses in the pocket of her robe, placed them on her head and began to read.

            "'The Ministry of Magic is to issue the following statement at 6 o'clock this morning, the 31st of July: At approximately 10 pm, Greenwich Time, Sirius Aurelius Black escaped from Azkaban prison'," her voice tapered off in shock as she digested the information. Trying to drown out the uproar in her mind, she read the rest of the statement in a rush, "'Black was convicted of the murder of thirteen people twelve years ago following the fall of You-Know-Who. Black is unstable and extremely dangerous. The magical community is asked to report any sightings of Black directly to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic in London.' Albus," she looked at him helplessly.

            "There's more, Minerva."

            "_More?_"

            "Cornelius Fudge claims the guards at Azkaban have heard him saying the same thing over and over in his sleep for the past few days. 'He's at Hogwarts.'" In the same grave voice, he met her concerned eyes, "We think he's coming for Harry."

            She gave a disbelieving laugh, "Albus, that's ridiculous." Seeing his face remain the same, she pressed on, "What could he possibly want with Harry? Why come after him?"

            "Why wouldn't he?" Albus countered grimly, "Harry brought down his true master. And it's no use denying that possibility, we all know he betrayed them and he killed those people in cold blood."

            He shook his head sadly as her face took on an unhealthy pallor and gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

            "I have to go to Harry," she stated suddenly. Pulling away from her companion, she rushed up the stairs.

            "Minerva, be reasonable," he said, following her up the stairs, "He'll be fine. Black can't make the journey from Azkaban to here in less than a day. Besides, the entire Ministry is out looking for him. They'll catch him soon enough."

            "He'll be fine?" she snapped, glared at him, "_That_ is what you have been saying since the day he began school, and it hasn't exactly _been_ fine, now has it?"

            As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them and sank down onto the edge of her bed. "Albus, I'm sorry," she apologized softly, bringing a trembling hand to her temple, "I didn't mean that."

            "I know," he replied, sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his, "It is beginning. It has already begun. He's come out of hiding and now he is calling all his supporters to him." Squeezing her hand gently, he resolutely vowed, "I will never let anything happen to our boy."

            Biting the inside of her lip, she tried to concentrate on nothing at all, but images of the night she thought she lost her son overwhelmed her mind.

            _"Professor McGonagall! Professor!" A young voice yelled frantically. In one fluid motion, the willowy witch rose from her desk and hurried towards the doorway._

_            "Miss Granger, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded as she swept out of her classroom, nearly colliding with the bushy-haired first year._

_            "Professor," she gasped, "Come quick!" And with that, she took off running back in the direction she had come._

_            "Miss Granger, what is it?" she repeated sternly, easily catching up to the girl with long strides._

_            "It's Ron," she panted, her headlong sprint waning as her steps became slower, "He's almost passed out, I don't know what to do."_

_            "Where?" Minerva demanded tersely._

_            "Third floor," gasping for breath and clutching a stitch in her side, the girl stopped completely, "Third floor corridor."_

_            The older woman blanched and stared at the girl, "What?!" she demanded  in a hoarse voice, praying she heard wrong. As the girl met her gaze with tearful, guilty eyes, she snapped, "Get Dumbledore," and took off at top speed. Barreling around corners, and up stairs, she finally reached her destination._

_            A young boy with flaming red hair leaned against the wall of the corridor, the gash on his forehead oozed blood even as it began to clot. Looking up as the woman came rushing towards him, he held up a hand weakly and she could see it trembling with the effort._

_            "Sit down, Mr. Weasley," she ordered crisply, fishing in her pockets for a handkerchief._

_            "I'm sorry, Aunt McGonagall," he muttered dazedly as he sank down against the wall, "We had to stop You-Know-Who."_

_            Shaking her head, she held the handkerchief to his forehead. Rapid footsteps approached as Hermione caught up._

_            "I told you to get the headmaster, Miss Granger," she said sternly, trying to take into account the girl's tear streaked face and panicked expression._

_            "We already have," she said softly, "He went to Harry."_

_            "Harry?" Minerva repeated, her already beleaguered mind piecing together the aggravating puzzle the children had created. The dust on their clothes smelled of marble, and the burnt-green rope-like stains on their clothes could only come from a plant - a rather violent one at that. "No," she whispered, snapping her head around to stare into the darkness of the third floor corridor._

_            All of a sudden, her senses prickled. Something fast approached them out of the gloom._

_            "Down!" she yelled, dragging Hermione to the floor as she pushed Ron down. A terrible 'something' roared over her as she clutched her students to her and shielded them from the non-being rushing through the hall. It was over in an instant, but as she struggled to sit up, she realized she was trembling. Ron groaned and clutched the white cloth to his head as he rolled onto his back and rested, but Hermione. . . Her eyes were wide and fearful and her mouth parted in shock as she stared after the very essence of hatred and darkness._

_            "Miss Granger," she spoke softly, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. The girl refused to meet her eyes, but didn't hesitate to bury her small face in the folds of her professor's robes as Minerva reached out to her in an effort to calm her._

_            Minutes later, the headmaster emerged from the darkness with a small, black haired bundle in his arms. Quickly disentangling herself from the young girl limp in her arms, Minerva shifted over to where Albus placed his boy gently on the ground. She saw him send a silver messenger to Poppy out of the corner of her eye, but she paid it no heed. Taking her baby's head in her lap, she tried not to cry, but couldn't help her eyes from watering up._

_            "Give him a few days, Minerva," Albus told her gently as he eased himself down beside her, "He's a strong boy. He'll be fine."_

            "They'll be informing the muggles then, I presume?" she questioned sharply, shaking the clinging fear of that day out of her head.

            "You may presume too much, my dear," Albus frowned.

            "That man is a bloody imbecile. If they don't alert the muggles, Black could very well disappear into their number," she reasoned crossly.

            "I should go back. Cornelius is not the most detail-oriented of men."

            A derogatory snort was his answer.

            A few moments passed.

            "Should we tell Harry?"

            "I think it's better if he hears it from you rather than someone else."

            "What about…?"

            "I don't know, Minerva. I honestly don't know if he is ready for it."

            Another brief silence.

            "I should be getting back."

            Nodding, she rose and he followed her up, trying to ignore the four pointed glares coming from the doorway.

            "Shoo," she ordered, "Go on, I'll feed you in a moment." And three loyal canines departed, but not after shooting warning growls over their shoulders. Tate the bloodhound, however, stubbornly sat directly in the center of her doorway, refusing to move. The sight of the over protective bloodhound had them chuckling as they kissed, and the flat out growl had Minerva in giggles.

            "I love you, Albus," she whispered into his neck as they embraced.

            "And I you, Minerva," he replied. "I'll see you at the Burrow then?"

            She nodded again, "Six o'clock – don't be late." And after a swift parting kiss, he left, edging past the obstinate bloodhound who watched him with a careful air. Smiling, she knelt before her dog and pressed her forehead to his as she scratched behind his ears in an effort to placate him. "You're still my man, hey?" she grinned and he licked her cheek in truce.

            A little over an hour later, she made her way down to her study where the Daily Prophet had arrived and sedately waited upon her desk.

*

_            "… The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sightings of Black should be reported immediately…"_

            "And they've been told he has a gun," Kingsly Shakebolt followed up to the muggle news castor's words. Albus tried not to look skeptical as the plan concerning the muggles was laid out and implemented. "It will have to do," the tall auror stated, reading the skepticism on the other man's wizened face, "It really is all we can do in order to keep them informed without putting our entire world at risk."

            "As you say, Auror Shacklebolt," Albus relented, "It will have to do."

            "And we are summoning more effective guards to Hogwarts," Fudge said firmly.

            "Minister, there must be another way," Madame Bones argued, her booming voice nearly hushed as she spoke.

           The Wizengamot had gathered in a tucked away conference room at the Ministry of Magic. There were no windows, artificial or otherwise, and in the dim torchlight, one couldn't tell night from day. It was a fairly dismal setting, but then again, they hadn't gathered to discuss a particularly happy subject.

            "_Hem hem_," Dolores Umbridge began in her breathy cough, "I do believe we have been through this. The dementors are the best tool for this job."

            "Madame Umbridge, Minister," began another member, "Surely you realize that some of the children will not be able to cope with the constant presence of dementors at the school."

            "It is a necessary step that must be taken," Fudge insisted, avoiding Albus' eyes.

            "I believe," the headmaster finally began, his quiet seriousness immediately silenced other murmurs, "That dementors are highly dangerous creatures who would turn against those they are supposed to protect if it suited them. However, if the Ministry is absolutely fixated on having them guard the school, those creatures will not, under any circumstances, be allowed within the boundaries of the school."

            "But Dumbledore – ," began Fudge.

            "That is my decision, Cornelius. I will not waver."

            As heads around the table nodded in agreement, the beleaguered minister gave in with a sigh, "So be it, headmaster."

AN: soooo? Good? Bad? Tell me!! =) THANKUMS!!!


	2. Storm Brewing

Storm Brewing

As soon as they reached the sprawling professional Quidditch pitch, Harry sensed something was wrong. All around them, witches and wizards gathered speaking in near panicked tones, many clutching issues of the morning's _Daily Prophet_ tight in their fists. Exchanging a questioning glance with his best friend, Ron, neither of them caught the troubled look shared between their chaperones. As Amanda hurried them off to their seats, she met her companion's eye meaningfully and forced a jovial laugh at the boy's questions.

"But what's going on?" Ron demanded. He was taller than her now, and towered over her five foot one inch frame, to his immense amusement.

"Munson's out for the game!" she exclaimed, feigning dismay. As Ron swore at the loss of the Canon Seeker, she laughed and cuffed him over the head, knocking his Canon's hat awry, and promptly dragged him towards their seats. Harry trailed along behind laughing, only his eyes betraying his skepticism from beneath the brim of his violently orange cap.

Marcus stayed behind, claiming to go get snacks, and inconspicuously leaned into the nearest conversation.

"… but how could this even happen?"

"No one knows –"

"But surely the dementors would have sensed it –"

"Not if he used a darker magic even than they."

A pregnant hush fell over the speakers, each struck by the horror of the implication.

"Excuse me," Marcus intoned seriously, and in hushed tones so as not to scare anyone, "Would you mind if I borrowed that for a moment?" he asked a curly haired witch, who wordlessly passed him the Prophet and went back to brooding.

His heart froze as he read the headline.

**Sirius Black Escapes Azkaban**

_For the first time in recorded history, a wizard has escaped the high-security wizarding prison of Azkaban. According to numerous memos circulating through the Ministry of Magic, Sirius Black escaped sometime between nine o'clock and eleven o'clock yesterday night. Authorities are unsure as to how Black managed to do this, but now know for certain that Black has retained much of his magical ability, despite having spent the past twelve years under the heavy guard of dementors. The rest is purely speculation. Black was charged with the massacre of thirteen people with one curse directly following the fall of You-Know-Who. The terrible loss can only be defined as the actions of a cornered, desperate man, whose family was well-known for its close ties to Slytherin House and the dark arts. His cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black was convicted, along with her husband, brother-in-law and another, with the brutal torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom, who now reside in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's. With a heritage rife with atrocities and the madness brought on by the constant presence of dementors, Black is as unstable as he is deadly. The public is strongly urged to report any sightings directly to the special Floo network set up in connection with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic. (cont. pg 3)_

Below, a picture of the escapee stared madly through a curtain of long black hair. Marcus remembered the days following the attack; everyone was terrified, terrified that more of You-Know-Who's supporters would follow Black's lead and continue to keep the public in fear. The long arm of the law raided the house and home of every suspected death eater and hunted down those who ran.

Returning the Prophet to the woman, he quickly made his way to his seat just as the match was ready to begin. As he slid in beside Harry, Amanda threw him a quick questioning glance from the other side of Ron. He responded with a small shake of his head.

"Where's our food?"

Harry snorted at his friend's one track mind.

"I'll get it," Amanda immediately said, and took off for the concession stand, and undoubtedly off to find a copy of the _Prophet_. Harry turned to Marcus.

"What's wrong?" he demanded in a low voice, "What's going on?"

Marcus was always unnerved by Harry's 'older-than-he-really-is' stare, and the vivid green eyes didn't help matters. All the same, he chuckled and turned his nephew's head back towards the game. As usual, it didn't take long for the two boys to be on their feet and screaming as the game wore on. Amanda eventually returned bearing food and the boys promptly began showering the people in front of them with crumbs as they continued their tirade. She turned to yell with them, and did so in her usual boisterous manner, but Marcus saw the faint shadow of fear behind her eyes.

oOo

Any type of meal with the entire Weasley clan was always an energy charged affair. Parties, on the other hand, bordered on insanity. And it was with that thought Minerva apparated to the Burrow and was immediately assaulted by the sounds and smells of the place. Molly was cooking up a frenzy, that much was apparent as the aroma wafted about the house and into the yard where Minerva stood. She heard someone yell for her and she turned. With a small grin, she waved back to the eight mounted Quidditch players. She watched for a few minutes, then went to the house to see if she could help Molly with supper.

"Hello, Minerva," the younger woman greeted cheerfully as Minerva entered. Before she could open her mouth to offer help, Molly waved her away, "I've got everything under control. Ginny's upstairs, she's a bit put out because the boy's wouldn't let her play, nothing new of course," she huffed, indignant on her daughter's behalf. Know she would get nowhere trying to stay in the kitchen, Minerva headed to Ginny's room.

As she reached the second floor landing, she felt a strange hum of energy coming from the young girl's bedroom. 'Put out' apparently did not fully encompass Ginny's ire.

Cautiously opening the door, she found Ginny seated on her bed reading furiously from an old Defense Against the Darks Arts book. Sighing softly, she took a seat next to her and grimaced as the bed springs squeaked.

"Prats," she heard Ginny mutter as she leaned into Minerva's side.

"I know, girl-child," Minerva replied, resettling her arm so she could smooth Ginny's red locks.

"I mean, I know they're prats, but can't they just once put aside their prat-ness and let me play – I'm really pretty good," she railed dramatically, and Minerva had to stifle a grin. Out of all the Weasleys, her favorite would always be Ginny. Most likely the poor girl was completely stifled by the two women in her life, and that situation had only escalated in terms of over-protectiveness after the events of the previous year. Her arm unconsciously clenched about Ginny's shoulders as she remembered.

_After calling the teachers to the staff room and telling them the news, she slowly made her way to the Gryffindor common room to tell her brothers. Why Ginny? Why sweet, charming Ginevra Weasley? A pureblood. Blood traitor perhaps. What other reason could there possibly be? She had become terribly withdrawn this year. Perhaps it had something to do with her new, confusing crush on Harry – a boy she'd known all her life, but still a boy, and she a girl. It had become progressively worse with each attack and each month. Maybe she knew it had been hunting her. Maybe she had been scared all this time and she, Minerva had done nothing to help her._

_Smoothing invisible creases from her robes with trembling hands, she faced the portrait of the fat lady and spoke the password. The boys came quietly as she led them to her office. Perhaps they sensed something wrong – perhaps they already knew. "I don't know how to tell you this, boys," she said quietly as she shut the door behind her, "Ginny has been taken." Their reactions were painful to watch. Ron bowed his head and bit his lip, forcing tears back behind his eyes. George gripped Ron's shoulder as his own eyes glistened, Percy swayed on his feet and his pale face turned grey, and Fred clenched his jaw to keep from saying something bitingly angry he would regret. She had not given a second thought to including Harry in this meeting, but the grimness in his eyes and the stubborn set of his chin alarmed her. He was a boy who took action, so much more like the man his father had become than he'd any right to be. After forced words of condolences and silent hugs of comfort, she walked the boys back to their common room._

_She sent for Molly and Arthur, and in less than an hour, the three of them grouped together in her office, silent tears working their way down Molly's distraught face. The tea on the table before them cooled rapidly as the sun descended and turned the sky a glowing shade of orange and red. Staring into the fire in a sort of grim daze, Minerva missed the opening and closing of her office door. So caught up in her own thoughts of guilt and regret, she did not notice the silent comforting hand the newcomer placed upon the parents' shoulders. As the comforting hands placed themselves upon her own shoulders, she started, then closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. Turning wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around Albus' neck and breathed in his scent, whispering apologies for failing even as he firmly shushed her._

_Nearly two hours later found the group in much the same position, the two teachers standing beside the fireplace, trying to gather the warmth from the outside to compensate for the ice cold within. Suddenly, Albus' head shot up and his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. Minerva looked at him with a question in her eyes, and was sent over the edge of confusion as his face broke into a wide grin and his eyes twinkled merrily as he looked towards the door. A few minutes later, the door opened, and Minerva nearly fainted. _

_"Ginny!" The scream was Molly's as she rushed to her daughter, Arthur running after her. Minerva was too shocked to move, her eyes locked on Ginny's rumpled state. She was nearly too shocked to breath, but took deep breaths as she leaned against Albus. On a second thought, she turned her gaze to Ginny's companions and nearly fainted all over again. Harry and Ron sheepishly stood in the doorframe and she could tell her son was waiting for an apocalyptic explosion from her._

It had taken much explanation and later a stiff drink to fully comprehend what had happened. How lucky they had been. Yet, she found herself musing, not for the first time, was it really luck? Or was Harry indeed endowed with a larger capacity for trouble and heroism than she had ever imagined? Ginny's loud sigh beside her brought her back to the present. The corner of her mouth twitched upward as she considered the young girl beside her.

"What?" Ginny asked candidly.

Minerva grinned and winked, "Nothing, girl-child, let's go see if supper is ready." The young witch was not convinced, but gave an inward shrug and followed her aunt and confidant downstairs.

oOo

As soon as they had arrived at the Weasley's, Ron and Harry ran off to the paddock to find Fred and George. If anyone knew what was going on, they would. Unfortunately, Charlie, Bill, and Remus were there as well, and as Amanda joined them, there was no opportunity to corner the twins to see what they knew. George, however, was a perceptive young man, and catching Harry's eye as the young boy gained altitude on a rather rickety broom, winked silently assuring him they would talk later.

Harry grinned at George's wink, and looked around to catch Ron's eye. There was never any speculation on who among the Weasleys was his closest friend – Ron had been and no doubt would always be his best friend, but at the same time, it was useful to have almost the same closeness with Fred, and especially George. It scared him sometimes, that George seemed to know everything. He was sure Fred knew at least as much as his twin, but only on rare occasions offered up information freely, even to his own kin. Ron, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to remain oblivious to much of what was going on around d him. He led with his heart, but was happy to follow the heads of others.

A loud whoop brought Harry out of his reverie and he made a disgusted face at his own meandering thoughts. Fred just scored and was now being a complete wally about it. Well, vengeance would be sweet he thought with a mischievous grin, and banking right, looped Fred to regain possession of the quaffle.

They touched down nearly an hour later and Mrs. Weasley's command brought them to the backyard where friends and family sat along a bowed table, heavily weighed down by piles and bowls that smelled like edible heaven. Inconspicuously making his way to George's side, Harry slide into the seat Fred was about to take and grinned innocently. Fred's reflexive, and painful, jab in his ribs warranted retaliation, and a half-hearted tussle broke out, only to be stopped by Molly Weasley's snapping bark, "Sit _down_ and _behave_ yourselves!" It was no less intimidating coming from the other end of the table, and the two boys grinned at her as they took their seats.

Fred sat at the head of the table with Harry at his left and Ron at his right, and only realized just how horrible a position he was in as he looked up and saw his mother glaring at him from the other end of the table. Ducking behind a conspicuously large heap of dinner rolls, he muttered darkly, "You wait – I'll get you for this."

"Don't be silly," Harry retorted evilly, "Ma will dock points whether we're in the school or not."

George cut off Fred's train of thought quickly, before bloodshed, explaining, "Harry needed to talk to us, doesn't know what's up yet."

"Doesn't he?" Fred grinned, "Sorry, mate, don't know a thing myself."

At Harry's muted disbelief, George cut in, "He's only almost right," he amended with a look at his twin, "We don't actually know much, and what we do know doesn't make any sense the way they're carrying on," he ended with a head jerk down the table towards the grownups. Covertly making sure everyone else was otherwise occupied, George nodded for Fred and Harry to do the same.

And so, leaning forwards and laughing as they scooped generous amounts of Shepherds pie and potatoes onto their plates, the twins alternated their explanations so as to make just enough noise to not be heard clearly, but not so much as to be obvious.

As Fred laughed with Ron, George leaned over Harry to grab the gravy, "All we know for sure is that Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban last night and no one's been able to catch him."

"They've even got the dementors after him, if what we heard from dad's conversation with Dumbledore is right," Fred elaborated as George picked up the conversation with Ron. Know this tactic well, Ron met Harry's eye and couldn't fully disguise his hurt at his best mate conspiring without him. In response, Harry nodded minutely and mouthed later, and Ron immediately perked up, taking George's role and entertaining Ginny and Charlie, who was beside George.

"They didn't say dementors exactly, but they were talking about the ministry allying itself with the 'darkest of creatures' or sommat like that," George stated. "Anyway, I don't think that's what all the secrecy's about," he added with a meaningful glance at his twin.

Dropping his voice even lower and leaning closer while surreptitiously maneuvering the still heaping bowl of mashed potatoes to block much of the view from the other end of the table, Fred went on, "Everyone's been so tight-lipped about this. Won't tell us a thing. At first, we thought they were just trying to protect us, not letting us know he was on the loose, but that doesn't quite fit."

"Why hide something that's all over the papers anyway?" George pointed out seriously.

"Exactly," Fred nodded, "I think they're hiding something about him."

"It's got to be something not widely known, otherwise that would be in the papers too," George continued thoughtfully.

"I think it's something to do with his family? Mum mentioned it this morning, something like 'What else can you really expect from that family?' But that makes no sense either. We all know the Black family was deranged, all of his cousins are either dead, in Azkaban, or married to other purebloods."

"Maybe it has something to do with what got him landed in there in the first place," Harry thought aloud, "What was it exactly anyway?"

"The Prophet says he blew apart a street and killed thirteen people with one curse, including one wizard," George supplied.

A thoughtful silence descended upon them, and Charlie, who had heard their voices, but not what was said, quipped, "You lot aren't scheming again are you?"

"Of course we are," Fred answered with a grin, picking up his persona as a prankster with gusto, "It's what we live for."

Later that night, after Harry whispered his conversation with the twins to Ron, they lapsed into a similar thoughtful silence. Staring up at the violent orange ceiling of Ron's room, Harry tried to wade through the puzzle pieces that were currently jumbled together, with only one certain piece: Sirius Black, a murderer, escaped from Azkaban prison. Supporter of You-Know-Who? Possibly. Mad? Probably. But if he is mad, how did he manage to escape? Questions yielded to more questions and Harry was soon left with twelve times more questions than he had started with.

"Harry?" Ron asked the room quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think this has anything to do with you?"

Harry sat up immediately, scattering his blankets, "I don't think so. Not that I know of, anyway. Why?"

"No real reason, I suppose," Ron mused, "It's just that most things involve you one way or another."

oOo

AN: ok… um….. sorry for the wait…. Please don't kill me… and please leave reviews ) ok really: I kind of lost interest for a little while (ok, a year) – t'was weird. I just wasn't feelin' the story at all (haha – I know there are other ppl out there who'll leave "I'm not feelin' the story either. It SUX" reviews. But anyway.) And THEN real life popped up and I beat my GPA into submission – feels good to do the 4.0 on a whole year mwuahaha. Anyway – that's what kept me. I'll REALLY try not to make you wait that long for the next chappies, but I don't want to half-ass this one and just put SOMETHING out. I did that on the last one, and I really don't like some of the chapters. . . half the time it doesn't even seem like I had a direction at all. :sigh: SO. I will not be posting abject crap. ) I'll be working on psychological development and I really want the things that happened in the book to happen here in a _believable_ way. . . especially Harry and Snape – so look forward to the deterioration of their relationship as presented in the first one. ) FINALLY, I want to thank the AWESOME people who left me a truck load of reviews for this! I LOVE YOU ALL! lol – it was the reviews that eventually dragged me back ) I don't want to let you guys down! Hope you like this chappie! Ok – I'm done. )


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